


Wind and Water

by Indybaggins



Category: Shetland (TV)
Genre: Character Study, Dysfunctional Family, Home, Islands, Kissing, Loneliness, M/M, Moving On, Nature, Parenthood, Rare Pairings, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-08
Updated: 2018-03-08
Packaged: 2019-03-28 15:24:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13906875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Indybaggins/pseuds/Indybaggins
Summary: Grief is like fog, a damp blanket covering everything around until you’re the last man on earth, the last thing living, listening to your own footsteps while trying to get home.





	Wind and Water

**Author's Note:**

  * For [splix](https://archiveofourown.org/users/splix/gifts), [ancientreader](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ancientreader/gifts), [thetimemoves (WriteOut)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WriteOut/gifts).



> For Splix, Ancientreader, and Write_out because you were wondering about the potential of this pairing and I have seen the light so let me share it! Wrote this while stuck at home with the flu – it’s the perfect show to disappear into for a few hours when ill. 
> 
> Warnings: Mention of a deceased spouse and related grief. 
> 
> Thanks to the ever-brilliant Jie_Jie for giving this a read-through!

 

 

It’s the wind. The wind makes Shetland what it is – open, brutal. 

There’s not much other than rocks and green on these isles. Rocks with the sea beating down on the edges and the wind hitting anything that dares to stick out above it. Jimmy always felt right, out here. Looking at the seagulls, the sea growling beneath him, tasting salt on the air and the sky so large above it feels like he’s nothing. 

That’s Shetland; it reminds you that everything else doesn’t matter. Not even grief that feels as real as the ground under your feet and the dark clouds spitting out rain above. Grief is like fog, a damp blanket covering everything around until you’re the last man on earth, the last thing living, listening to your own footsteps while trying to get home. Jimmy knows that only too well. 

He wasn’t alone, though. When Fran died, Jimmy had Cassie needing him and so he went on home and did what had to be done, for her. 

But Cassie’s old enough to fend for herself now, and that’s another kind of grief, that’s rain falling so softly you don’t notice until you come home soaked through to the bone. 

Jimmy’s alone. For the first time, years after Fran, there’s no one in the house to make him want to come home. Nothing warm or lived in. Instead it smells like damp and cold and he only comes back to sleep under his crumpled sheets. He’s got work, that’s what he lives for now, work and Cassie’s phone calls, the odd visit. It’s not an empty life; he’s got enough, more than enough. 

There’s everyone at the station – Tosh, Sandy. Jimmy spends so much time with them that he can forget, most of the time. 

There’s Duncan, too. 

After Fran, after moving here, Jimmy learned to deal with Duncan. To communicate, even. To spend a quiet moment or two, when needed. They appreciate each other now, Jimmy thinks. They’ve learned that, over the years and the sorrow streaming between them, they’ve gotten that far. 

Even if Duncan reminds him of her. There’s something in the way Duncan talks and how he laughs, how he _cares,_ that’s pure Fran. The first time he noticed, Jimmy thought he was imagining it. Then he considered that Fran loved Duncan first before she ever loved him. She had a child with him, so of course there’s a connection, Duncan’s the closest... But that’s not it. 

It’s the gleam in Duncan’s eyes. How he gets into trouble, time and time again. How he spoils Cassie – unreasonably much. He’s always taking her side, he’s always trying to score points, he’s always the charmer and the good one. 

Duncan is everything Jimmy could be if he didn’t have to hold on to things. If he didn’t have to fight, just to keep it all going, day after day. 

Jimmy is jealous of Duncan, that’s it. Jealous of Duncan’s second marriage that’s failed again because Duncan has the _luxury_ of messing it up twice in a row. Jimmy is jealous of how Duncan’s got a finger in every pie on the island, how he’s buddies with everyone and knows it all, how he’s loved. While Jimmy’s respected, instead. He’s police, and there are too many who can never forget that, least of all Jimmy himself. The island’s too small for it. People need to see him for who he is, he can’t go being their friend and their officer the next day. 

But Duncan can be whoever he wants to be, and he knows it. Duncan laughs and drinks and moves through life like he doesn’t have a care in the world. Duncan smiles and sometimes Jimmy balls his fists because he wants to punch that smile right off his face, or get closer and...

He doesn’t know why he wants that last one. 

He does, though. 

Jimmy does when Duncan’s staying over because his latest marriage has gone bust and they’re having a drink that turned into three. Cassie’s gone and they haven’t got a thing to tie them together, except they’re the closest each of them has to _something_. Something to come home to, something to depend on. They’re in this together for life and Jimmy can’t help but feel that every time they’re in the same room - forever. Come what may. 

Whether they want it or not. 

Jimmy sips his drink and looks at Duncan, really lets himself look at the light shining teasingly in Duncan’s eyes and the way he’s leaned back on the sofa. At his smile, so sure of himself and yet there’s something shy there, something just on the edge of coy and that’s what the girls chase, Jimmy thinks. _That’s what Fran must have seen in him._

When he leans in and puts a hand onto Duncan’s knee, it’s not an experiment but lord knows he doesn’t know what he’s doing, either. 

Duncan just looks back at him. There’s a bit of sorrow there, a slow swallow and a glance at his hand meaning ‘if only, yeah,’ that Jimmy’s too tired to deal with. Jimmy’s seen murders and pain and more than he ever thought he needed to see here on these islands, and he knows that this - warm on his own sofa with the house smelling like the pasta Duncan cooked an hour ago for them both - this isn’t pain at all. 

Jimmy would kiss him, right here, on a sun-lit afternoon that’s nothing special at all. But Duncan stills him when he gets close enough - “Hey.” 

It’s a ‘you’ll never go there, Perez. I know you.’ And the thing is, Duncan does know him. He knows all there is to know, and that’s why Jimmy tries again. That’s why he pushes his mouth to Duncan’s and tastes the alcohol on his breath and the rub of stubble in a soft press of a kiss. 

Duncan says, “Jimmy-” to his lips with half of a laugh, like he wants to make this funny. 

It never was.

Jimmy leans back because he should, not because he wants to. He hasn’t been touched properly in so long he can feel it in his ribs. He’s had sex, recently, but it never was like this – something that’s been going on under the surface for years already. Jimmy can smell Duncan’s cheap aftershave, and he wants to nose the line of Duncan’s jaw and think _this is how I thought it’d be._

“You’re drunk, Jimmy?” Duncan breathes a stutter of a breath - a sign of conflict.

“No.” Jimmy looks up at Duncan and sees him for every bit of a tosser he is, every second of annoyance and well-meant presence and he doesn’t want to lose... Jimmy hadn’t thought to consider this, but, “You?” 

Duncan leans back onto the sofa. “Not yet, no.” He smiles slightly, unsure but with some well of need underneath that Jimmy recognises. 

And this should be different. It _should_ be a mistake, shouldn’t it? They should go for it and then regret it and never speak of it again. 

But it feels right when Duncan shakes his head, laughs, and then grabs his neck - Jimmy can feel his fingers grip him there with a lurch in his chest - and pulls him in. Duncan’s hot lips hit him hard. It’s a fast kiss, and it nearly hurts - the stubble stings. 

They break apart, but then linger, breathe each other’s breaths for a moment more. Duncan’s eyes are on him, so Jimmy kisses him again. Then a third time, a fourth. He doesn’t want to stop. Neither does Duncan, he grabs his shoulders and holds on when he kisses him back. 

Jimmy’s hands are clumsy on Duncan’s shirt buttons. He doesn’t, he’s not good with... But it doesn’t matter. Duncan’s shaking under him and that says what he needed to know. 

He says, his voice breaking, “Bedroom. Come on. Let’s do it proper.” 

“Proper?” Duncan laughs at that but he also stands up fast, ready to give in. 

Jimmy suspected. He always did, somewhere in that smile and the attitude he thought he could sense it. But it’s still different to lock eyes with Duncan in his own living room, both of them standing here out of breath and heads thumping with want and think ‘he belongs here’. 

It’s real, this. Or it could be. 

Jimmy follows Duncan to his own bedroom. Duncan knows the way, he’s already home here. They both are. 

“You even know how?” Duncan looks back at him, his wispy hair wild and eyes glowing. 

Jimmy wants to bristle at that, but it’s a tease. Not an interrogation. 

This isn’t - neither of them have a reputation to uphold. They’re already inserted into each other’s lives in every possible way. It matters immensely and at the same time it hardly does at all, what happens now. How good it is. 

“You’d be surprised.” Jimmy says it to see Duncan smile. 

“No.” Duncan eyes him. “I always thought so.” 

“Did ya?” Jimmy looks at him and realises he’s bloody terrified of this. Not the sex, it’s the rest - loving again. Losing again. Living. Cassie’s right, though, he needs this. He needs to reach out and... 

“Oh, yes. Jimmy Perez had to be hiding a secret somewhere.” Duncan turns out of his grip and pulls his shirt over his head, baring his chest. “It can’t all be perfect.”

He’s thin, white chest hair with darker bits springing all over his chest and Jimmy could watch that – he’s never been a painter, anything like that, but he could _watch_ that. 

“Before Fran,” Jimmy admits as he pulls off his shirt and shoes and steps out of his trousers. “Never on Shetland.” He wasn’t scared to. It just never came up, here. 

“I’ll be the first, then.” Duncan grins. “On Shetland.” 

He fully undresses as well, and then they’re two middle aged men standing naked in Jimmy’s bedroom. It makes him want to laugh, or joke it away, but he can’t, instead he’s unsure on his feet. 

Duncan comes closer, so Jimmy kisses him and takes him in his arms like he would a woman. Duncan fits right in there until his cock bumps into Jimmy’s. It’s awkward, fitting body parts, sliding skin in his cold, brightly lit room. 

There’s the rustle of the two of them moving. The sound of a kiss. Jimmy’s sweating, under his arms, the hollows of his knees. The house is close around them, but it feels safe. They kiss and disappear into each other’s arms and the luxury of touch, just touch. It’s like waking up after a long winter, having Duncan here. Hard, pressing into him. 

“You want this, Jimmy?” Duncan asks again, even though his voice tells him he already knows the answer, he just wants to hear it. Again and again, probably. Duncan’s enough of a tosser for that. 

Fran was, too. She was always angling for compliments. Jimmy didn’t always realise, back then. Now he wishes he could have given her one every time she wanted one and then some. 

“I do.” Jimmy tilts his hips and presses his cock to Duncan’s leg, then tilts his face and kisses him, with tongue. He tangles his fingers into Duncan’s soft hair and whispers, close to his ear, “Aye, I do.” 

Duncan lowers himself to sit on the bed, with a grin, and pulls him in closer. Jimmy can see him smile there, by his legs. His meaning’s clear. Still it’s a shock when Duncan leans over to his cock and guides it to his lips. Duncan licks it, gently, giving him time to get used to it. 

“Ah.” Jimmy makes a sound that’s as much for Duncan’s sake as his own. Yes, I want to. Yes. 

Duncan’s hand settles on Jimmy’s hip, warm fingers splayed there, contracting as he licks and works his mouth around the head of Jimmy’s cock. 

It’s so quiet. There are no sounds but distant wind hitting the house, and the wet sucks of Duncan’s lips and tongue working on him. His mouth feels hot. 

Jimmy touches the side of Duncan’s face and feels Duncan’s stubble rasp under his fingers. It’s almost beautiful, this. Duncan looks up at him and briefly closes his eyes in a gesture of trust. 

_Surrender,_ Jimmy thinks. 

He pulls out just a little, his cock appearing red and wet from between Duncan’s lips, and asks, “Lie down?” 

Duncan does, he lies down on top of Jimmy’s unmade bed and opens his legs expectantly. 

It’s easy, this. Jimmy kneels onto the bed and leans down between Duncan’s legs while Duncan inhales shakily. Jimmy feels Duncan’s wiry pubes touch his cheeks, and he can smell him. Precome is pearling up as Duncan looks at him and heavily swallows. Jimmy licks it off and tastes the sharp tang of it, then takes him deeper into his mouth. 

It’s uncomfortable, moving back and forth, but Jimmy wants to make him feel this. 

Duncan’s face is flushed, and he looks a picture. Wanting, like this. Wanting him. 

“ _Jimmy_.” Duncan breathes. 

He keeps on going, Jimmy moves his head back and forth the best he can. He sucks, spit spreading around his lips. He pulls off a bit, uses his hand on Duncan’s cock, shining with spit, then takes him into his mouth again. 

Duncan tenses his legs. He shifts on the bed, then his hand grips Jimmy’s shoulder in a quick warning. Jimmy moves his head and tries to swallow as the bitter come floods his mouth. He uses his hand while he pulls off and swallows again, then wipes his mouth. There’s more than he remembered. 

Duncan is looking at him. He barely made a sound. 

Jimmy’s throat aches. His knees feel shaky, and his left shoulder reminds him he’s too old for this. 

It doesn’t matter. 

He moves up the bed. Jimmy lies down next to Duncan and closes his eyes. Both of them are radiating heat now. 

Duncan wraps a hand around Jimmy’s cock, and Jimmy bucks his hips at the touch. 

He wants to fold, buckle and cry out, but Duncan is here, whispering, “Shhh,” into his ear, so close, until they’re pressed forehead to forehead. 

Duncan speeds up his hand, and there is nothing else in the world than that feeling. Jimmy comes with a wet inhale that’s almost a sob into Duncan’s hand, over his fingers. 

Time settles, again. 

The heat is radiating between them, damp and close. Jimmy can feel Duncan’s breathing in the expanding of his chest.

The wind’s still going outside. There’s a square of sunlight falling onto their feet. 

It’s strange, having the weight of someone else next to him. Someone else’s breathing. The bed’s big enough for two, but Jimmy’s never had anyone here. 

Duncan moves away in increments. First part of his weight moves to his side of the bed, then he turns away completely. 

Jimmy gets up. He grabs his clothes and goes to the bathroom, washes up and brushes his teeth like nothing happened, his whole body still faintly uneven, as if it can’t believe he did this, either. 

He lingers a bit. Jimmy makes sure Duncan can make his escape, if he wants one. Still, he’s not surprised when he walks out of the bathroom and he can smell coffee. Not at all. 

Jimmy goes to the kitchen and sees Duncan there, fully dressed and puttering around, gathering up their plates from earlier. 

“You’ve got nothing in your fridge, you know that? I had to go to the shop to make that pasta.” Duncan eyes him. “Cassie’s right, you don’t know how to feed yourself.”

Jimmy looks at Duncan and tries to see anything different lingering between them now. Any potential hazards. “She’s always right.”

“That she is.” Duncan instantly smiles. 

He pours them both a cup of coffee, and Jimmy looks at him. “She got that from Fran. The worryin’.”

“Aye.” Duncan glances at the pictures on the fridge. There’s one of Cassie and Fran, maybe five years ago, on Fair Isle. 

And all of this, it should be only about the two of them, but it’s not. It’s about Fran, who lives between them in everything they say and do. It’s about Cassie, because she is what they built their family on and it’s the foundation that’s going to last them a lifetime. 

That’s not healthy, exactly. But so little ever is. They all drag things into sex, and love, and Jimmy always preferred it when there was baggage to sort through, complications. And this is the complication to end them all. 

Jimmy takes Duncan’s hand, just for a squeeze, on his way to his coffee cup. Duncan looks surprised, and then as if he’d be glowing, if he’d let himself believe it. 

They clear off the table and wash the two plates together, plus their coffee cups, and the glasses from earlier.

It feels good, this. 

Jimmy’s not hurting anyone with the promise of... This is Duncan, he knows him. Duncan knows he won’t be home, and that he’s endlessly missing calls, and that dinner always goes cold. Duncan knows that he’s paranoid sometimes, and preoccupied, and that he doesn’t have a romantic bone in his body. 

When they’re done, dishes standing dripping on the counter, Jimmy dries his hands on a kitchen towel and tilts his head. “A walk?” 

“All right.” Duncan doesn’t question it. 

They wear their coats and set off. First across the road. Then up, past their neighbours’ croft, and higher still. Duncan follows him when they walk over the fields, and Jimmy looks at the sky above them, huge, the grass beaten down by the never ceasing wind, and feels like he can breathe, here. Like it’s right. 

He looks back at Duncan. “Thinking to get a dog.” That’s what Shetlanders do, at a certain age. Get a good dog. 

“Cassie would love that,” Duncan agrees. 

They catch a glimpse of the sea, dark stormy blue, beating onto the coast in sprays of white. 

“But she’s gonna be at university for years still.” Duncan raises his voice to be heard over the wind. “And you don’t have time for a dog on your own. You’re never _home,_ Jimmy.” 

Jimmy looks at Duncan’s eyes, the same as Cassie’s, the same familiar shine that he’s grown to love. The wind beats into Duncan’s face and plays with his thinning silver hair and he’s nothing like Jimmy ever wanted. But he is what he got, and that’s... “You are. Home.” 

“What?” Duncan smiles when he realises what Jimmy’s saying. “Me? You want me to...”

He doesn’t continue. They walk towards the cliff and the sea beating onto the rocks. The grass tangles around their feet while the thought burns between them. 

A warm house with cooking smells, Jimmy thinks, with the dog lying at their feet. The two of them at Cassie’s uni graduation, at her wedding, playing with the grandkids someday. The two of them sharing the bed and muttering at each other over the morning paper and arguing, oh, arguing – he imagines they will. It won’t be easy. Jimmy doesn’t _want_ it to be, he wouldn’t know what to do with himself if it was.

After a moment more, Duncan meets his eyes and says, “ _Yes._ I mean... Yes. A dog.” He smiles, enough to make laughter lines stand out around his eyes. 

“Good.” Jimmy speeds up, his strides large, feeling elated and lifted and as if the sky’s breaking wide open just for him. He can hear Duncan’s laughter behind him and walks even faster, uphill, into the wind. 

Duncan will catch up.

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
